


Happy Birthday, James.

by myblueworld



Series: A Spaniard and an English Lad [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld
Summary: It's James' birthday. He's been waiting, but he gets no call from David. Not even a text.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because it's January 4 and it's James' birthday.

Joe Hart is the first one who congratulates him. It’s 12.07 AM when Joe calls him.

“Charles?”

“Happy birthday, Milly!”

James knows that maybe he should have been annoyed by Joe calling him at this hour. They’re already too old for giving birthday greeting right at midnight. But it’s Joe. And as always, he can never be mad at Joe.

“Thanks, Charles. How’s Italy?”

“It’s nice. I am enjoying my break. It’s a nice thing about not playing in England, the break around Christmas, you know?”

Joe ends it with an easy, light laughter. But James wonders whether Joe laughs to conceal his bitterness. James knows Joe too well to know how much Joe loves England, how much he loves the beautiful pressure of the challenging Premier League. And how much he loves City. Even though there are times James wonders whether Joe still loves City as much as he did despite what the club has done to him.

 _ **The club**. Not the fans. Not the teammates_. James always adds quietly whenever the thought crosses his mind.

“So, what’s your plan for birthday?”

“Nothing special. I still have training for the day.”

“Oh?” 

There is something funny in Joe’s voice. “Really? You don’t plan to go anywhere? Maybe going somewhere to visit someone?”

James embarrassingly feels a rush of heat on his face. “Naaahhh… Too busy with training,” he says, a little bit too quick. “Anyway, how’s Harlow?”

He knows that the best thing to do to distract Joe from something that James doesn’t want to talk about; is talking about his son.

Fifteen minutes later, when James places his phone on the nightstand beside his bed, he wonders whether Joe knows him too well. Maybe. Maybe Joe knows him too well to know the _where_ and _who_ that crosses James’ mind when Joe asked him the question.

 

* * *

 

That morning, James finds a huge birthday card waiting for him on his locker. Signed by all of his teammates, James cringes to see the pictures of socks on the card. James checks his phone again before he puts it into his bag. A bunch of messages is there. But still, none of them is the message from the one that he's been secretly wishing for. Sighing, James closes the door of his locker. He pushes his wish away. He’s always been good in self-control. So what’s different with this one? What should be difficult about not thinking about it?

_Except that it is difficult._

James makes his way to the training ground. He smiles as his teammates hug him, pat his back, congratulate him. Klopp gives him a bone crushing hug. His eyes light up behind his glasses when he congratulates James. His excitement makes James thinks that Klopp looks more like that fun favorite uncle in the family who travels a lot and always have funny stories about his journey.

All the warm congratulations and banters from his teammates make him able to forget about that thought. For about five minutes. And when the thought hits him again, he shakes his head, tries to focus on something, anything. He tries to reforget.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the day, James takes his time slowly in the locker room. He knows that Hendo is waiting for him. And he doesn’t, he just _doesn’t_ have the heart to break his heart. Hendo is a good guy. And James likes him. 

But still…

James gazes around.  There’s no one else in the room now besides him and Hendo. Hendo is standing with his back against his locker. He has been scrolling through his phone, but James doesn’t fail to notice his glances to where James is sitting.

James gets up from the bench. He slings his bag over his shoulder and walks towards Hendo.

“Hey, you’re still here, mate?”

Hendo lifts up his face from his phone. James can see a faint blush on his cheeks. He pretends that he doesn’t see it.

“Hey, Milly,” Hendo clears his throat, but then he opens his bag, and takes out a small box. He hands out the box, wrapped in red paper. “Happy birthday,” he says, smiling at James.

James thinks that he shouldn’t feel guilty. But that guilt still haunting at the back of his mind. He takes the box and hugs Hendo.

“Thank you, Hendo. I really appreciate it,” he says as he pulls himself away and smiles. “Now, I really get to go, I have things to do.”

James tells himself that he’s not completely lying. Just staying at home, reading a book with a cup of tea, or even just watching some nonsense on TV, they can also be counted as things to do, right?

  
“Oh?” Hendo bites his lower lip. Then he nods. He smiles back, but his eyes don't smile. James walks away from him, trying to forget the disappointment that was there in Hendo’s eyes. He sees it. He just tries to ignore it.

In his car, he takes his phone out from his bag. There are a bunch of new messages. Still, that name does not show up among the names that send him the messages.

James starts his car and tells himself that he doesn’t expect anything anyway.

_He does._

He tries to forget, reforget about what he has been wishing.

 _It's nothing but wishful thinking,_ he tells himself quietly.

When he stops at a red light, he thinks about a bright smile, a pair of dark eyes, and a constellation of freckles.

* * *

 

It’s a little past about 8 PM now. After checking his phone again (for so many times, James is too embarrassed to count it), he puts his phone in the drawer of the nightstand. He vows to himself that he would not check his phone again until tomorrow morning. He goes back to the living room, sits on the couch, looking at the TV without really watching it.

James doesn’t mind to be alone. He likes being alone, in his own peaceful bubble. It’s the loneliness that clenches his heart a little.

And he starts to think, maybe if he had chosen to stay, maybe if he had said something about it, maybe if…

The doorbell jolts him back to reality.  He rubs his face with both hands, sighing. As he stands up and makes his way to the door, he prepares himself to see a bunch of his teammates, excited to take him out for his birthday, a celebration that he doesn’t really want to have.

He’s thinking about the most polite way to say no to whatever his teammates might offer when he opens the door.

David is standing in front of his door.

James gasps. He blinks, and blinks again. But David is still there. James holds the door knob tighter, needing something to steady him. 

“David?”

David smiles tentatively. Like he’s not sure how to smile properly.

“James. Hello.” 

James stares at David. His figure looks even smaller in that thick coat, along with a wool scarf around his neck. More than five years in England, and the Spaniard still can’t deal with the cold.

“David,” he says again, still dazed. He’s not sure what to say. He’s not even sure that this is real.

David nods.

“James,” he says, and pauses. The corners of his mouth tug higher this time. “Happy birthday,” he says, softly, almost like a whisper.

“I thought you forgot,” James says. He really thought so. Against his own will, he has been wishing that David wouldn’t forget. But he really thought that David forgot.

“I don’t,” David shakes his head a little. The smile lingers a little on his lips. “I remember your birthday, James. I always remember.”

“But you…” James stops.

_No phone calls. No text messages._

And in split second, the look in David’s eyes change. A change that makes the smile turns into a sad one.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

James wants to ask **_why_**. Why David didn’t call him. Why he didn’t text him. _Why he is here now._

But his brain fails him as now he can only stare at David.

David straightens his back, and smiles again. But James doesn’t like that smile. Because it doesn’t reach David’s eyes. It doesn’t light up his face.

“Happy birthday, James,” David says again.

“Thank you,” James nods. He opens his lips, wanting to say something more than that. Wanting to say how much he misses him. Wanting to tell how hard it is to forget him.

But David nods, and turns around. He starts walking away.

James can’t take it. He just can’t. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he's already making his way towards David, and grabs his shoulder.

“David!”

David stops. James can feel how his shoulder gets tense on his hand. David stays silent. He doesn’t even turn around to look at James.

“David,” James calls him again, this time only whispering. “Stay, please?”

A few torturing seconds pass in a heavy silence. Then slowly, David turns around.

There is a fragile, vulnerable look in his eyes when David holds his gaze at James. James sees it. But he doesn’t dare to guess what it means. It might make him start to have hopes again. Start to have wishes again.

“Do you…” David pauses. He slowly takes James’ hand away from his shoulder, and holds it. “Do you want me to stay?”

James doesn’t dare to look away from David. Too scared to let David go from his sight.

“Please,” he says. “It’s my birthday wish,” he adds. His voice is nothing but a whisper, James thinks that maybe David can’t hear him.

Then a smile starts to slowly spread on David’s lips. A smile that feels like a kick on James’s chest.

“Okay,” David says. “Okay.”

James' heart is in his throat when he holds David's hand back, and smiles at him.

 

* * *

 

James watches as David holds his cup, sipping the tea that James just made for him. It still feels a bit unreal, feels like a dream, sitting here with _David_ next to him on the couch. 

“You drove yourself here. All the way from Manchester,” James says, hardly believes what David has told him.

David smiles slightly. He places his cup back on the table and pushes his hair away from his eyes. “Yes, I did.”

“Good thing you didn’t get lost, eh?” James says, smiling at David.

David laughs pleasantly. And his laugh feels warmer than a cup of tea on a rainy day.

“I know how to use GPS, James,” he says, looking at James with a pair of smiling eyes.

James clears his throat. “You could have just…you know, call me. Or text me.”

He’s been waiting for that for the whole day anyway.

Then a shadow casts over David’s eyes, and James starts freaking out that somehow he might have said something wrong. David bows his head down. His finger starts tracing the rim of the cup in front of him.

“I know,” he says softly. “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“But…” James shakes his head. Because it just doesn’t make sense to him. Why?

“Why?”

David stays quiet for a while. And the longer he stays quiet, the harder it is for James to breathe.

“Because it makes me sad,” David finally says.

David turns his head to look at James. And that look is there again. That vulnerable look. The look that makes James want to do whatever it takes to keep David safe from anything that can hurt him.

“It makes me sad, because you’re far now.”

For a while, the world stops spinning.

Something is dangerously bubbling inside James. James can’t think. He can barely believe it. He can’t think and his brain freezes; so he just does what he _feels_ is right and what his _heart_ tells him to do.

He reaches out for David’s hand, and holds it.

“Hey,” he says. He tries to smile but it’s like something inside of him wants to explode. He squeezes David’s hand. “I’m far, but I can still be with you. We can still be together.”

That fragile look in David’s eyes turns into a shimmering hope. And this time James lets himself believe that it’s the same hope, the same wish as what he has.

“You can? We can?”

James’ lips tug higher as he runs his knuckles on David’s jawline. “If you want too.”

David holds his hand back, and a smile, that bright smile that has been lingering for so long in James’ mind lights up his face.

“I very much want too, James.”

“Good,” James puts his arm around David’s shoulder. He pulls David closer, and lets David rests his head on his chest. “Good.” James says again as he gently runs his hand up and down David’s back. James kisses the top of David’s head. He smiles, letting his lips linger a little longer between David’s downy hair.

David nuzzles his face against James’ sweater, then he turns his neck a little, so he can look at James’ eyes.

His smile is warm like the sunset kissing goodbye to the horizon when he locks his eyes with James’.

“Happy birthday, James.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have said it before and I am going to say it again. I will go down with this ship.


End file.
